Name: Woodland Waltz
Nickname: Walter
Height: 18.1 hh
Meeting Walter
One, two, three, turn. One, two, three, turn. Brown eyes flickered to the clock once more, bright with eager anticipation, tempered by a reluctantly patient compassion. Santa surely had several more important things to deal with, after all, such as bringing joy to all the little boys and girls. All over the world in such a short amount of time, slipping into so many houses and remembering what all goes to who? She was older, she could wait, and be patient, and wouldn't be as disappointed if her gift came a little late. That still didn't aleve her of any of this tightly wound energy. It didn't steal the brightness in her gaze, the spring in her step, nor the eager squeaking sounds which were most unbecoming of a young lady. She couldn't help it, not really.
There was a chill in the air which only served to invigorate her. Thick, dark clouds which made her feel ever so hopeful, their silent promise that of a wonderfully white Christmas. There was already a thin blanket of frost on the ground, which in the first stirrings of dawn would be the perfect backdrop for a magical first meeting. It would be even better if it was at the first stroke of midnight, with bright stars and a pregnant moon far up above, but right now just about anything would feel ever so special. This was to be their first meeting, after all, and it was on such a magical night, granted by such a kind and mystical person. How in the world could she not be bouncing with anticipation? Eager to see the mare or stallion that would be her latest, and very much spoiled, companion? She felt like a child on Christmas morning, and in many ways, she was. After all, she'd never really grown out of that childish whimsy and wonder, that bright outlook on the world.
Sure she'd grown- grown up and grown wiser, more patient, more understanding, less naïve, and a million other things. But for everything that had changed, even more remained the same. She still snuck out to the barn in the middle of the night. She still snuck candy canes from the Christmas tree, all stealthy and sneaky even though she'd been the one to put them there. She still bolted about the pastures like a loon, trying to convince her beloved equines to join her, even as they watched her futile antics with great bemusement. Maybe this horse would be different though, being raised by Santa, and up in the North Pole. Perhaps he or she would find joy in her often childish antics, and love the cold, snow and icicles as much as she did? She could only hope, but even if the equine disdained her for those very reasons, she didn't think she had it in her to love him or her any less. Sure she'd be rather distraught if her latest companion detested her, but surely Santa wouldn't give gifts he knew would upset the receiver? Yet even if her luck was in short supply, she was stubborn enough to make up for it.
Unless the gypsy was miserable with her, in which case it would break her heart, but she'd have to let it go, hopefully to a better home.
If you love something, set it free, and all that.
She shook her head, swiftly chasing away those darkening thoughts before they could really take root, for there was no place for such things on such a joyous day. Night? Whatever time one wished to call it, dismal doubts and worries wouldn't darken a shared first meeting. Without realizing it, her anxious pacing had picked up to an almost frantic speed, only to freeze in place at the oddly heartrending thoughts. Huffing with this realization, she resumed her waiting march. One. Two. Three. Turn. One. Two. Three. Turn. It was a slower, more ponderous pace than that which she'd started with, but that suited her just fine. Some of the previous energy had burned off in her prior haste, and a certain lethargy now threatened to steal over her. A yawn slipped from her lips unbidden, prompting her to pause. Pacing was all well and good, that thrumming undercurrent of nervous, eager energy still driving her to move, but it simply wouldn't do if she were to fall asleep before the gypsy arrived.
Exhaling lightly, her nose scrunched up in absentminded thought, before a nod settled it. Long strides carried her across the room and out the door, barely a whisper of sound as she slipped outside into the cool, crisp air. Taking a deep breath of the winter air, the hushed world alight with a silent peace, her eyes slipped shut to savor the moment. The frozen grass crunched underfoot, an easy, brittle, pure and fresh sound which split the otherwise quiet day. Because that's what it was now, the sky lightening with the dawn drawing ever so near. She was forced to a hesitant halt as a shiver wracked her blind frame, another yawn stretching across her visage with enough force to draw tears from her closed eyes. Blinking the liquid from her gaze as a plume of hot air ghosted across her flushed face, chocolate colored orbs peered up at mirthful amber pools. Her breath slipped from her in an awestricken whoosh, wide eyes full of wonder as she stared at the stunning equine.
Suddenly timid fingers reached out to stroke the velveteen muzzle, only to falter not even a hare's breath away. Yet suddenly there was something warm and soft was being gently pressed into her hand, amber eyes watching her actions with an air of patient understanding. A smile curled at the corners of her mouth, pulling her once hesitant expression into something soft and sweet, and absolutely enamored.
Bonding
Dark brown eyes furrowed in concentration, silently gauging the height and force necessary to swing up onto the large gypsy's broad back. Worrying a lip between her blunt teeth, there was a moment's pause as she reached over to grab a hold of the stallion's long obsidian locks. He watched her with a distinctly curious air about him, which teetered briefly on amusement as he caught on to her plans. Beside him, her diminutive height made her seem no more than a child. Yet she wasn't to be detoured nor dissuaded. In the span of a lonely heartbeat, she tensed, springing up with all the coiled force she could muster. It wasn't enough, however, her feet uselessly dangling in the air while her arms clung desperately to his back. Her cheeks puffed out in mild aggravation, feeling her grasp slipping, knowing she wouldn't be able to scramble up like this...
A startled squeak slipped out as an overlarge nose suddenly shoved her rump, pushing her higher up onto the stallion's back. Blinking, she lay sprawled there for a moment, like a ragdoll cat abruptly flung across the back of a couch. Shooting a glance towards the gypsy's large head, she found a great mirth in those ale colored eyes. With a light huff of mock affront and wounded dignity, she swiftly set herself to rights. There was a certain cheer in her bright gaze as she squirmed forward to reach the stallion's poll. Nimble fingers combed through his lengthy mane, gently teasing the two toned hair as she tested it for any lingering knots. What few she found were taken care of with a lethargic haste, in no rush at all as she silently savored the equine's pleasant company.
Soon content with the snareless state of his lengthy locks, she patiently began twining them together in a loose, running braid. Left, right, left, right- it was an almost mindless task. Yet it was that monotony and the stallion's calm, placid demeanor which allowed her to relax. Humming under her breath something which sounded suspiciously like a Christmas carol, golden brown ears swiveled back towards her to listen. A smile curled at her lips as she took note of the attention, the tranquil sounds only growing in volume at the stallion's apparent pleasure. Time ticked by, yet they remained oblivious to it- or rather, simply uncaring of its passage. There was nowhere they needed to be, and there were hours to go before she would need to fret about feeding the critters again. From a distance the other horses glanced at the pair, curious about the newcomer, but more than willing to let the human dote upon him to her heart's content. They could greet him later, once he was settled.
Eventually though, she did finish braiding his long mane, pausing as she realized there was nothing to tie it with. Considering it for a moment, she gently pulled the festive red ribbon from her own hair to bind the tail of the stallion's mane. Tying it in a bow, as evenly and pretty as she could, she leaned back to examine her work. With a satisfied nod, she slipped from the gypsy's back, squeaking in mild startlement at the unfamiliar drop.
by Kosciusko » Wed Nov 25, 2015 2:09 am 
